


You Can Look but You Can't Touch

by wordsonpages



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance, Smut, Teasing, bet, bughead - Freeform, fliritng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 16:43:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsonpages/pseuds/wordsonpages
Summary: Surviving 48 hours without touching your boyfriend/girlfriend was a piece of cake right? Except when you're completely addicted to them, hopelessly in love with them and excessively competitive. What the hell have Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones got themselves into?





	You Can Look but You Can't Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Hey loves,  
> Hope you enjoy this steamy oneshot, courtesy of a tumblr ask from the lovely team-bughead.  
> Enjoy xx
> 
> P.S sorry I was lazy and didn't tidy up my formatting :(

HOUR ZERO:  
It was hot. More than hot actually, in fact Jughead was almost positive this summer was more akin to hell on earth.  
It was early July and the heat had already exceeded Riverdale records, making it clear they were on track for a sweltering, unbearable few months.  
And for the teenager whose wardrobe mostly consisted of layers, flannels, denim, and leather and of course the renowned beanie the heat wasn’t exactly a cause for celebration.  
Jughead groaned, head hitting the back of the vibrant leather booth he was sprawled across. The curser on his laptop screen blinked at him obnoxiously- a reminder of the words that would not come.  
The agitated boy glanced around the crowed diner, finding even more cause for frustration. It seemed as though half of Riverdale’s population had decided to seek refuge in the Chok’lit Shoppe, making it a little harder for Jughead to enjoy the air conditioned space he felt even more at home in than his foster house.  
Just as he was spiralling into another brooding monologue about the woes of wanting to get a refill but dreading losing his booth, the bells at the entrance chimed, signalling the arrival of another patron.  
It wasn’t just any patron though; it was the one bright spot in this god awful summer. It was the one thing that was making all his suffering, completely and utterly worth it.  
And that was Betty Cooper, clad in a tiny sundress that showed off her gorgeous, long, tan legs.  
Her eyes scanned briefly around the crowded space before landing on Jughead; lighting up when they met his and skipping happily over to his booth.  
“Hey you,” he greeted, unable to keep the smile off his face in her presence.  
“Hi,” Betty returned sliding in beside him before placing her lips over his.  
Jughead relaxed into the kiss, savouring the taste of her lips which were much more refreshing than any cold beverage could have been.  
As she pulled away Jughead couldn’t help but notice the dewy glint on her skin, the heat obviously affecting her too. He licked his lips, unable to resist the enticing sheen and wanting nothing more than the trace the column of her neck with his tongue.  
“How are you coping?” the blonde asked in mock concern, shifting in the booth so that her back was pressed fully against the cool leather and revelling in the relief in brought her.  
Jughead rolled his eyes at her obvious teasing, pulling his laptop shut.  
“I didn’t think I would find hell this early on but here we are,” he drawled sardonically.  
Betty snorted, shaking her head and sending the curls of her pony tail bouncing  
“It’s not that bad Jug, and it’s air conditioned in here.”  
“I was talking about the crowd not the weather Betts.”  
She couldn’t help but laugh properly at that, turning her body toward him and basking in the light humour in his blue eyes, thrills tripping down her spine at his inviting smirk.  
“So you’ve warmed up to the heat then?” Betty asked with a wry smile at her own pun.  
Jughead quirked a brow, amused at her awful attempt at humour.  
“Well there are certain aspects of it that I’m partial to…” he trailed off, his tone full of implication as was the hand creeping up her thigh.  
“Oh really? Like what?” Betty asked innocently, inching toward his lips again.  
The rest of the world was melting away- figuratively or literary they weren’t sure- as the booth became their little haven of young love, flirtatious banter and steamy infatuation. The air was becoming thick as Betty placed one leg on the seat so that her shin was flat against the leather and her body was nestled between the table and his black ripped jean clad leg that was bent and resting behind her.  
Jughead’s hand came to rest on her hip, fingers teasing the heated skin even through the thin layer of fabric.  
Betty’s eyes closed at the feel of his lips ghosting against hers as he spoke.  
“I’m not complaining about that dress.”  
She grinned against his lips, before they fully connected with her own and they were locked in a languid kiss. Their lips moved over each other slowly, sensually, passionately. It was teasing almost, the heady yet restrained push and pull of their mouths as they tried to quench their thirst of each other without putting on an inappropriate public display.  
One of Betty’s hands came up to clutch the v neck of his black t-shirt, while the other rested against his cheek. Jughead’s tongue glided nimbly over her lower lip, prompting Betty to open her mouth wider. He swallowed her sigh and each of them revelled in the moment of teenage bliss, unaffected by the tragedy and treachery of the town that seemed to constantly follow them around.  
“Really guys I came in here to cool down not heat up,” Veronica’s feigned exasperation broke the pair from their little bubble.  
Jughead rolled his eyes at the comment, as Betty bit her lip shyly and repositioned herself to lean against him, facing their companions.  
“Betty Cooper what would your mother think?” Kevin added, clambering in next to the raven haired beauty with a playfully scandalised expression.  
“At least their just kissing and she’s not pregnant?” Jughead suggested earning a smack on the chest from Betty, while Veronica chuckled and Kevin looked absolutely delighted at the remark.  
“No but in all seriousness how can you guys stand to be so affectionate when it’s like a billion degrees outside?” the New Yorker questioned fanning herself with a perfectly manicured hand.  
“He just can’t keep his hands off me,” Betty quipped cheekily poking her tongue out at her boyfriend.  
Jughead raised his eyebrows at her.  
“Is that a challenge Betts?”  
Shit, Betty thought, noting the darkness swirling in his irises, making her heart stutter and her thighs clench with excitement. It was that and her competitive streak that manufactured her answer.  
“If you think you’re up to it Juggie,” the blonde replied sweetly, faux innocence exuding her persona.  
“Ohhh! I love a good bet! What are the stakes?” Veronica rubbed her hands together mischievously.  
“48 hours. No touching. Loser funds milkshakes for the rest of summer. Both parties agree?” Kevin added, leaning in conspiringly.  
Jughead glanced down at Betty, their eyes met in a heady embrace.  
“I’m game if you are Cooper.”  
“You’ve got yourself a deal Jones.”  
HOUR 12:  
It shouldn’t have shocked him how difficult it would be to keep his hands off of her but it did.  
Jughead had registered the difficulty of not touching her in a sexual sense, and knew that would be hard, but decided he was up to the challenge. He had gone the better part of seventeen years without knowing what it was like to explore every inch of Betty Cooper’s glorious body so he figured he could go 48 hours, no matter how agonising those hours might be.  
What he hadn’t factored in was how challenging it would be to keep his hands off of her in the literal sense of the phrase. Only once he was deprived of the luxury did her realise how innate and engrained into their relationship the little gestures had become.  
It took actual physical restraint not to lace their fingers together as he walked her home and conscious effort to refrain from placing his hand on her knee, her shoulder, her thigh, anywhere whenever she was within a foot of him.  
It had only been 12 hours and it was already killing him. But he could not lose this bet.  
And it didn’t help that at this current point in time he was in the epicentre of all things Betty; her bedroom.  
Her parents, Polly and the twins had gone to visit Betty’s grandparents for a few days leaving her house empty. So of course they had pre-planned to take advantage of that situation- a plan that was now going to waste.  
It was 1am and Jughead was lying on her bed, the summer breeze filtering through the window creating a sultry air, accentuated by the feel of her white satin sheets pressing against the bare skin of his back.  
It had been a long night. And while Jughead was entirely content to just be around Betty- laughing with her, talking to her, eating with her, watching movies with her- he couldn’t help but think just how much more content they would both be after engaging in certain more rigorous and explicit activities.  
“Betts?” Jughead called out, wondering where she had disappeared to for so long.  
“Yeah?” Betty replied casually, striding back into her floral and pastel covered room.  
Jughead lazily raised himself up onto his forearms at the sound of her voice, but his eyes immediately bugged out of his head as he took in her profile.  
Leaning against her door frame was Betty clad in his black t-shirt which was riding dangerously high up on her thighs. The hem was taunting him, teasing the smooth skin of her thighs the way his fingers itched to do.  
Jughead collapsed back on the bed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His skin was feeling hot for an entirely different reason to the raging summer now, and his every nerve was thrumming with electricity.  
“Nothing,” he sighed trying desperately not to think about all the times she had climbed on his lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt, running her hands through his hair and whispering all the dirty things she wanted him to do to her while circling her hips just so-  
Fuck. Jughead thought, trying with all his will to ignore the twitching in his pants.  
“Okay…” Betty said, moving into the room.  
She was putting on a show and they both knew it.  
Betty knew she wasn’t playing fair but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him but she also wanted to win. It was driving her insane not being able to be close to him while they watched movies and hung out, wanting his arms around her or his hands in her hair. But now with him in her room in the early hours of the morning, shirtless and muscles mocking her inability to touch them, all she wanted was to climb on his lap and litter his skin with purple bruises, run her hands over his broad shoulders and move her hips…  
But she couldn’t do that until he broke. So she brought out the big guns. She could see on his face that he was tempted. He had always had a weakness- a hormonal, possessive weakness- for her wearing his clothes. A weakness that she loved- so of course she was going to exploit it  
A smirk rose on her luscious lips, making Jughead loathe himself more for agreeing to a bet so stupid. But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.  
Locking eyes with him Betty drew her bottom lip between her teeth and put on her best innocent face; wide eyes and all. Jughead gulped at the devilish glint in her eyes, an air of danger further igniting his senses.  
And then in a devastatingly sinful manoeuvre she pulled the hand that had been behind her back into his view and dropped something on the ground. Breaking away from her electrifying gaze, Jughead’s eyes moved to the floor.  
His breath caught in his throat and his pants became uncomfortably tight. There on the ground contrasting the pale carpet were his girlfriend’s damp, black, lacy panties. Jughead’s eyes stayed trained on the sultry garment, his resolve slipping away. He then moved his stare back up her smooth, slender legs to where his t-shirt rest against those legs. His mouth went dry as his mind connected the dots.  
“God Betty, why aren’t you wearing panties?” Jughead groaned out, a light sweat breaking out of his brow as he fisted the bed sheets so as not to pounce on his girlfriend, lift his t-shirt and see exactly what she was making no attempt to hide…  
Betty shrugged, the evil glint in her green eyes remaining in-tact as she took a graceful step over the lingerie on the floor and toward where he lay on her bed. The primal tint in his voice had sent delightful shivers down her spine, and heat flooding through her veins. And Betty was more than willing to test his self-restraint if it ended in their hands all over each other’s bodies.  
“It’s too hot for layers… what’s that matter? Will you find it hard to sleep now?”  
Jughead’s hands flew to cover his eyes as another tortured noise left his throat; strangled and agonised. She was too damn erotic for her own good that girl. And well he deserved a freakin medal. His girlfriend was wearing his t-shirt and nothing else, while they were alone in her room while her parents were out of town and he was somehow refraining from fucking her senseless?  
“Jesus Betty you are going to kill me.”  
But he didn’t touch her that night. And while Betty found a very tiny part of herself respecting his self-control, the majority of her being was absolutely devastated by his well exercised will power, and steel resolve.  
HOUR 24:  
Betty’s phone buzzed against the coffee table, prompting her to veer her attention from the television screen. Picking up the device, a happy wave crashed over her body as the name “Jughead” lit up the lock screen.  
Quickly, putting in her passcode Betty opened his text. She was currently sprawled across the couch in her living room, armed with a tub of ice cream and the remote, basking in the peace of her empty house and staying hidden from the harsh rays of the sun.  
The blonde was feeling the epitome of relaxed, especially with the bet between her and Jughead seemingly lax today with him working for Fred Andrews at the construction site and therefore, not around to tempt her hormones and dirty urges.  
I’m on my lunch break and there is no sufficient entertainment here  
Betty snorted at the message, clearly picturing his lips pushed outward in a faux little pout and a twinkle in his eyes as he typed the words, sighing dramatically at his surrounds.  
Poor thing! So glad I’m at home binging Netflix and eating ice cream, dodging that dilemma…  
She tapped quickly back. A few moments later her phone buzzed in her hand again.  
Actually in an unexpected turn of events, I’ve found a source of attraction after all.  
Betty’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she tried to decipher the cryptic meaning of his words.  
Enlighten me.  
It’s quite a vision picturing all the ways I want to corrupt you right here.  
The words bore through her body, flooding her system with want. Her breath coming out in a shaky exhale as her nerves thrummed with the temptation of his touch which she was sorely missing.  
My hands sliding up your thighs, my lips on your neck…  
He was the one playing games now and damn if it wasn’t getting to her. Her breaths were pants now and her thighs clenched at the thought of what his fingers could do between them.  
Betty let out a groan, throwing herself back on the couch as her heart pounded erratically in her chest. She waited a moment before replying. She wanted to resist. She didn’t want to know what he wanted to do to her…  
But god yes she did.  
Is that all?  
The blonde pulled her lip between her teeth, anxiously awaiting his reply.  
Not a chance in hell. I’d sit you up on the desk, spread your legs and feel how wet you’d be for me… then I’d drop to my knees and taste you.  
Betty was practically panting now, her legs rubbing together in wanton anticipation. Her body flooding with a heat to rival the outside temperature and the air conditioned house doing nothing to estop it.  
Juggie…  
And then only when you were begging me too would I bend you over and fuck you.  
Her hand crept down her stomach as the feeling of arousal building up within her became too much. Her eyes closed as she pictured all the sinful things his words had crafted. Why the hell had she agreed to this bet?  
Fuck Jug. Don’t tease me like that.  
Betty could almost feel his smirk through the words that appeared on her phone next.  
All’s fair in love and war Betts. See you later ;)  
A glare took over her usually soft features at the thought of only seeing him later and not being able to run her hands all over the lean muscles she loved so much.  
HOUR 30:  
It’s 7pm when Jughead arrives at the Cooper residence. It had been a long, draining day. Working construction for Mr Andrews was great in the sense that it lined his pockets with some extra cash, but was brutal in the sense that it was manual labour in treacherous heat.  
He spent the day taking out some of his pent up frustration from not being able to lay a hand on his girlfriend on some dry wall. Jughead, although proud of his little teasing routine earlier in the day was apprehensive about seeing Betty now. He was sure she had more tricks up her sleeve and was beginning to seriously doubt his body’s ability to resist her. She was like a drug and he was well and truly addicted and having withdrawals from the cold turkey quit.  
Hopping out of his truck and making his way to the front door, the dark haired boy began mentally preparing himself for another night spent in sexual agony with no release. He was past the point of telling himself at least he still got to see her; he would never take any part of Betty and her personality for granted but it was hot, and so was she, he was riled up and he was a hormonal teenager, as much as he despised the stereotype.  
Just 18 more hours…  
Knocking on the door, Jughead took a steadying breath. A moment later Betty appeared in the threshold. She was clad in a simple pair of running shorts and a t-shirt and Jughead was simultaneously disappointed and relieved to see she had given up wearing his clothes for the day. Her blonde hair was hanging free around her shoulders, her mile long legs again on display and her full lips once again begging for his attention. Jughead’s hands gripped the door frame hard to stop himself from reaching for her.  
“Hey, come in,” Betty’s tone was easy with a smile to match though her insides were bursting into flames.  
He looked so unjustly good standing before her in a pair of worn jeans and a white wife beater that pronounced the muscles of his chest, abs and arms so perfectly. His beanie was hanging in his back pocket and that one traitorous curl was hanging over his forehead, mercilessly teasing her. His olive skin was smudged with dirt and the evidence of a hard day’s work was making her knees weak and her skin and core heat.  
“So hospitable,” Jughead teased as he moved through the door, kicking off his boots.  
Betty rolled her eyes walking ahead to the kitchen and getting him a glass of water.  
“Thanks,” he supplemented taking the glass from her, both careful not to let their skin brush, afraid the electricity would exacerbate them.  
The air was tense, both their shoulder’s matching and their usual easy conversation was severely lacking.  
Betty was careful to stay on the opposite side of the kitchen to him, clutching the counter to stop her hands from reaching for the hem of his shirt, or yanking on his thick hair.  
Awkwardly clearing her throat she attempted conversation.  
“So how’d you cope in the weather today?”  
Jughead shrugged, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he tried to refrain from conjuring up all the naughty things he wanted to do to her right here in this kitchen.  
“It was okay, the afternoon got pretty hot though.”  
“That’s an understatement.”  
Betty’s eyes went wide as the words slipped out of her mouth before she could register them. Jughead quirked an eyebrow at her, both clearly on the same train of thought- their earlier text encounter. She hadn’t meant to tease him tonight as she was fairly certain her own resolve wouldn’t be able to handle any more games either. Meanwhile, Jughead did his best to remain aloof while inwardly his body was burning in desire for her.  
“Something got you worked up Betts?”  
“It did. But don’t worry I took care of it.” Jughead choked on his water at the implication of her words.  
Betty shot him a challenging look, though really she was beginning to panic internally. Every fibre of her being yearned to reach for him, pull his bottom lip between her teeth, suck the skin on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, taste the sweat that lingered and clutch his biceps as her hips ground against his.  
Jughead’s eyes darkened and her breath hitched in anticipation. Their gazes stayed locked for a prolonged moment. His dangerous and warning, hers antagonising. The air was charged and crackling and both their chests were heaving a little.  
Eventually Jughead looked away nodding in the direction of the stairs.  
“I’m going to take a shower if that’s okay?” His voice was coated with lust and Betty felt her skin prickle with excitement at the sound; she wanted it closer, breathed in her ear.  
“Yeah that’s fine,” she confirmed dazed and desperately trying not to think about the last time they had decided to save water by showering together. A move that had ended with her pressed against the tiles, legs around his waist and his name on her lips.  
Jughead nodded and hastily moved toward the stairs, needing to exit the situation as to not lose the bet, by wrapping her in his arms and inhaling her scent, tasting her skin and ravishing her body.  
Once he was out of sight, Betty let out a shaky exhale, running a hand through her hair and hopelessly searching for her control. Her heart was racing and her nerves were humming. She closed her eyes and clutched at the counter, seeking solace in the cool surface.  
After a few minutes Betty was satisfied that she had something akin to control over her hormones and primal urges and headed for the stairs as well, seeking out the sanctuary of her bedroom.  
As she lays on her bed, humming a mindless tune she can hear the sounds of the water running and it calms her a little… as long as she doesn’t think about him standing under the spray naked, and glistening… and fuck.  
“Betty?” Jughead’s voice makes her body snap to attention.  
“Yeah?”  
Silence.  
Betty hesitates before hopping off of her bed and padding down the hall toward the bathroom. Somehow the only and last thing she wants to do is chance walking in on him naked when she’s in such a vulnerable state of frazzled nerves and insatiable hormones. But it’s unlike him not to follow up on something. So she rolls her eyes and chances the encounter.  
Bad idea.  
“Jug?” she asks gently as she carefully opens the door.  
She is immediately dispossessed of all rational thought at the sight she’s greeted with though.  
Standing before her is Jughead, a white towel sitting low on his hips, making her mouth water at the prominent v lines enticing her line of sight downwards. A drop of water slides down his chest and between the ridges of his abs, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as her eyes follow it down. His dark hair is wet and his hands are pushing through it sexily, making her yearn to yank at the tresses. Heat pools between her thighs and she forgets how to breathe. All she can feel is a rush of adrenalin and hormones and want and-  
“Sorry, I was gonna ask for a towel but I-“ Jughead stops short.  
His eyes on her now like a spotlight. She’s panting, her green eyes dark and shining in a helplessly turned on stare as she nibbles on her bottom lip. She wants him. And god can he tell. His now indigo eyes lock on her form. His features turning dark as he practically devours her with his gaze alone. She feels much too warm and before she can even register what she’s doing, Betty finds her hands tugging at her clothes. Her shorts drop to the floor and she quickly steps out of them while pulling her t-shirt up and over her head. She’s left in matching blue lace.  
It’s his turn now to be captivated. His eyes hungrily roaming the expanse of exposed tan skin, still littered with fading marks from his hands and lips from what seems like an eternity ago but was only days.  
“Betty,” he groans out, the sound low and rough.  
The air is practically humming with sexual tension and she swallows thickly.  
Fuck it she thinks as her mouth says “shut up.” And within seconds she’s crossed the space between them and has her mouth sealed over his.  
It’s a clash of teeth and tongues; ferocious and bruising as they try and satiate themselves of almost two days’ worth of pent up desire.  
Her hands are gripping at his hair roughly while his have a firm grip on her jaw, angling her head so that he can devour her mouth better.  
She tastes sweet like the fruit she had been eating earlier and it’s such a delicious contrast to the bitter tobacco that lingers in his mouth. Betty groans and tugs harder on his hair as his tongue moves sensually along hers. The sound makes one of Jughead’s hands drop to grip her ass, pleasure pulsating through her body at the feeling.  
“Fuck,” he breathes into her mouth as her hips seek the friction of his own and their mouths move a breadth away to breathe the same air.  
Her head is spinning, drunk off of him as he picks her up and repositions her on the vanity, his mouth latching onto her neck and sucking purple bruises and she groans and pants beneath his ministrations.  
“Juggie,” she moans as his teeth nip at her pulse point; the pitch of her voice is the frequency of sex and shoots straight to his groin.  
That earns her a growl and the clasp of her bra undone, as he makes quick work of the garment, discarding it on the floor. As Jughead’s mouth continues down the slender column of neck, one hand runs over her throat- the gesture primal and making her damp with need- while the other moves to caress her chest. Betty’s ankles lock around his hips, her hands gripping his shoulders as her hips pick up a sinful rhythm that’s leaving him breathless and achingly hard.  
His lips move further still, encasing a nipple between them and making her gasp as she loses herself in the pleasure. Her hips buck toward his and he groans, the vibrations making her feel even more on edge in such a deliciously raw way. She needs him and she’s not ashamed. Her body is aching to be connected in the most primal way, needing to feel every inch of him to feel whole.  
Betty’s hands blindly trail down his chest and abs, revelling in the feeling of the contracting muscles and hot skin beneath them before coming to rest on the knot of his towel. She tugs and it comes loose. His head drops to her shoulder at the liberty, his breath warming and teasing her skin as her hands pull him closer and his own hips thrust toward the molten heat he can feel radiating from her core.  
“Betts,” he groans, the sound strangled and passionate as her hand snakes between them and begins to pump his length.  
Jughead feels as though his every nerve has been shot, his body feeling entirely consumed by the electricity she cloaks him in. He’s enraptured by her scent, enthralled by her voice, addicted to her taste and lost without her touch. He needs her and he needs her now.  
One large hand traps the both of hers above her head against the mirror and her head falls back as her hips lift at the dominant display. Her eyes are wide and pleading with him to move, to show her some mercy.  
His other hand tugs her panties down her long legs, until she can kick them off, before moving back up to run through her slick heat. She’s soaked in desire for him and the knowledge and sensation makes his head spin and his heart pound as his member throbs.  
His finger teases her entrance before pushing in, Betty inhaling sharply at the sensation of finally having him touch her. She whimpers as his thumb rubs tight circles over her clit, her hips bucking up to meet his movements.  
“Fuck your so wet,” he growls in her ear and the sex dripping from his tone makes her body desperate for more.  
“Please Jug, I need you.”  
He’s in no mood to be patient, deciding to make her beg later, after he’s had his fix of her.  
He’s inside of her before Betty can even protest the loss of his fingers and fuck it feels god. She almost loses it from the feel of him entering her alone and he has to exercise all of self-control not to do the same. Their pace is furious. The push and pull of their hips urgent and rough, climbing the way to their peak ferociously. He hitches her leg up higher on his waist as her head drops back against the mirror and her moans echo through the room.  
It’s needy and raw and fast and hard, and when his hand creeps between them to toy with her sensitive bundle of nerves she’s gone, plummeting over the edge and crashing harshly into the precipice with a scream of his name.  
Jughead follows closely behind her, the feel of her clenching around him being too much to bear and a loud groan falling from his lips. She shudders at the feeling of him spilling inside her. Her eyes closing as she basks in the bliss of their union.  
Jughead thinks they’re like the summer storm he’s waiting for; an agonising build of heat and tension that eventually explodes in a rampant and wild display of electricity and thunder. He drops his lips to her collar bone, gently kissing the skin before smiling into it. Betty runs her hands through his hair affectionately, before pulling his eyes up to meet her own soft and sated gaze.  
“I missed you,” she states simply and Jughead grins, dropping a sweet kiss to her lips. He knows exactly what she means. This was them, the touching and affection and passion. Not the reserved glances and gaping distance between their bodies as the last few days had been.  
“I missed you too,” he replies easily and Betty’s grin makes the fluorescent lights of the bathroom seem dull.  
They stay like that for a moment, catching their breath and revelling in the feeling of skin on skin and being as close as they could possibly get before moving to tidy themselves up.  
“Hey Betts,” Jughead throws over his shoulder as he slips on his boxers.  
“Hmm?” she returns, fingers detangling her hair.  
“You owe me a milkshake.”


End file.
